


Betrayal and Loyalty

by dying_deist, Nuraicha



Series: Betrayal and Loyalty [1]
Category: Muse
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Angst and Porn, Bisexuality, Consensual Underage Sex, Divorce, F/M, Homosexuality, M/M, Psychological Drama, Sexual Confusion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-07 11:25:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dying_deist/pseuds/dying_deist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuraicha/pseuds/Nuraicha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>AU. While still reeling from his parents' divorce, Dominic's mother introduces him to her new boyfriend, which only serves to make things more complicated in the broken household, as Matthew instantly catches Dom's eye.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I know what other people say about the whole process. They say it happens “even to the best of families” and that “I’m grown up enough to cope with it” and that “this will be the best for everybody”. But actually, I don’t fucking care about what other people say or think about it, because it’s my life that is changing, not theirs, isn’t it?  
  
I mean, I wasn’t going to miss the fights, the screaming or the biting comments they shoot at each other all the time. What I _was_ going to miss though, was the fact that we were a family, even if nowadays we don’t really seem like one. But, once the divorce was done, we would never be the ‘Howard family’ again, and that was what hurt the most.  
  
My parents’ relationship had been a total wreck since I was about thirteen, but I didn’t realize it properly until I hit fourteen. That was when my parents stopped concealing their problems and started shouting and arguing openly in front of me. I suppose they reached the breaking point or, more probably, thought I was mature enough to see testament to the fact that they didn’t love each other anymore.  
  
However, they stuck together, even if everything had become hell on earth. I can’t count the hundreds of times I ran away from my home, ending up at the house of my best friend Chris and staying the night over there, just because I needed some calm to sleep, not wanting to hear how they kept on throwing ‘poisoned darts’ at each other.  
  
Sometimes I heard my dad mumbling it was all “the fucking money’s fault”, because apparently we didn’t have enough to pay the cost of a divorce; if my mum heard him, she’d say it was all “bollocks” and the blame was up to him, because he didn’t know how to even save a single penny.  
  
I don’t know how, but they finally made it and, in the most relaxing dinner we had had in years, they told me that they were signing the papers for the divorce.  
  
What was I supposed to do? Congratulate them like everything was okay, when all that those papers meant was that my family was disappearing? Of course, I knew it would be better for the both of them, but I was actually worried about my dad. My mum was right; he wasn’t great with numbers and who knows how he’ll end up sustaining himself.  
  
The divorce would definitely be good for my mum though, that was for sure. She was at her worst lately and I was actually a bit worried about her health. Maybe if she stopped fighting every day with my father she’d recover.  
  
So I simply nodded and, as soon as they saw that I approved, the usual arguing quickly picked up again, this time caused by a sarcastic commentary from my mum about how happy she was because _we_ could finally get some peace in _her_ house. At the same time, my dad began to yell “half of what this house contains was bought with _my_ money!” I stood up of my chair and, without even throwing a single glance at them, I picked up my keys and my bag (it probably sounds pathetic, but I had become accustomed to having an overnight bag always at the ready, in case I had to escape to Chris’) and left the house.  
  
On the ride to his house, I tried to hold a stupid tear back, which threatened to leave my eyes while, step by step, the gravity of the fact my family was definitely _over_ finally registered in my mind.  
  
***  
  
“So there isn’t any way back, then?”  
  
I shook my head, taking a sip of my beer. We were lucky that Chris’ parents were at the cinema that evening.  
  
“No, I don’t think so. This is the first time that they’ve told me for real that they’ve got the papers. This is serious; they will get the divorce.”  
  
Chris nodded slowly and patted my shoulder a few times.  
  
“I’m sorry, mate.”  
  
I shrugged, trying to look cool and not to show him all my real feelings.  
  
“It’s fine. It will be for the best, I hope.”  
  
“Yeah, this way there won’t be any more fighting.”  
  
“Well, that will be when they’re finally away from each other. I suspect it’ll be even more of a hell these next few days, they’ll argue over the silliest of things, like ‘I bought this fork’ or shit like that,” I reasoned, finishing my can. “Do you have another one?”  
  
“Careful, or my folks will notice!” he half-heartedly protested, but gave me another beer nevertheless. Maybe it was because he pitied me, but - even if I hated it every time he did that - I had free alcohol, so I couldn’t care less.  
  
“Cheers,” I lifted my new can at him and Chris toasted with me. I could see in his expression that he really was sorry about what had happened, and I couldn’t stand it.  
  
Sometimes I wish I could have a perfect family like his, but I never was blessed with that.  
  
“Come on, switch on the Play, I’m going to beat your arse this time!”  
  
“You wish!”  
  
And, finally, he left me alone and we could focus on small talk and video games. This was what I needed.  
  
***  
  
As I had anticipated, the one month that passed until finally everything was done, was horrible. Chris’ parents had invited me to spend it at their house, until the divorce was finalized, but I didn’t want to seem weak, and spending the whole day with him would show Chris how devastated I actually was on the inside.  
  
At the beginning, my dad had insisted on taking me to Northern Ireland with him, to stay with my grandparents, but my mum had firmly opposed. Being a problematic sixteen year-old, meant that they had all the rights to do whatever they pleased with me, but luckily my mum said I should stay here, because my whole life was in London, and my dad had to give in. As neither of them wanted to lose more money fighting over my custody, they agreed that I’d go to Belfast, the city where my grandparents lived, every time I had holidays. This sucked a lot, because I didn’t know anyone except for my grandparents there and I’d be so bored without my friends.  
  
Anyway, I was staying at home; I could deal with the holidays when the time came.  
  
“Don’t worry, Dommy, everything will be okay,” my mum reassured me, hugging me when my dad left what had been the Howard house for so many years.  
  
I didn’t believe her.  
  
***  
  
It had been almost a year since my parents had divorced, and life had been treating me well. Everything appeared to get better after Dad had left, except for my freedom. When they were fighting every second, it was so easy to go unnoticed; hiding my low marks and my liking for partying, but, now that my mum could only focus on me to have someone to shout at, she had realized that I was indeed a ‘bad boy’.  
  
Come on, I wasn’t that bad! I mean, I didn’t get into big fights, consume hard drugs or get a girl pregnant. I just liked to have fun and of course that involved lots of booze, messy parties and shagging.  
  
That was something that I’d discovered was full of potential that year: the sex. Even if I had kissed a few girls when I was younger, I’d soon realized that I was actually gay. It wasn’t a big deal for me, I didn’t struggle much with the revelation. It was at a party, after being snogged by a supposedly straight guy, who was three years older than me. He was really drunk, just like me, but the next day I’d accepted what had happened, which had been quite the contrary to him, who had almost broken my nose threatening me not to tell a soul what had happened.  
  
After that moment, I felt the need to change something drastically in my life; so I cut my hair and started playing football with Chris, trying to be fit. I also replaced most of my awful baggy jeans and big jumpers for tighter clothing, with the purpose of showing off the nice body I was starting to have.  
  
I lost my virginity when I was sixteen and since that moment, I didn’t stop, especially during the divorce of my parents, when I needed to relieve all the tension. I had never wanted the complications of a relationship and luckily I hadn’t fallen in love with anyone. I preferred having casual sex with random guys I met at parties or on the internet, than seeing only one person. In fact, every time I started feeling that someone was starting to grow attached to me, I’d stop contacting him.  
  
It was for the best and I was young, I had the right to behave in that sort of free manner.  
  
I thought my life was settled, until the day my mum came back from the high school where she taught English and announced that we were to go out for dinner.  
  
I barely lifted an eyebrow at the statement, my gaze locked to the screen of the TV, because I was playing.  
  
“Oh my god, are you even listening to me, Dominic?” She stood between the TV and the couch and I could clearly hear how my car crashed.  
  
“Mum! You made me lose!” I whined, not caring how childish that had sounded.  
  
“Dominic James, we’re leaving in one hour, so dress nicely.” She crossed her arms and glared at me.  
  
“I have to study,” I half lied. In fact, I did have an exam tomorrow, but my plan of the evening was staying there playing as many videogames as I could. I had to beat Chris’ record next time we met.  
  
“Uncle Richard is staying in London this week. I thought you might want to see him,” she casually added, turning around and heading for the kitchen.  
  
That finally got my attention, because I hadn’t seen Uncle Richard in a long time; he is a reporter for the BBC located in Japan, so his visits to London were scarce. He is also one of the funniest men I’ve ever known and possibly the only member in my family I have never argued with.  
  
“Alright, I’ll sacrifice myself!” I shouted in the direction of the kitchen, feigning indifference, even though I was aware my mum knew what I was really thinking.  
  
However, the prospect of a dinner out didn’t mean I really needed a lot of time to get ready, I thought smirking and returning to my game.  
  
We were almost half an hour late.  
  
To be honest, the fault wasn’t _all mine_ ; the traffic at that time in the evening is horrendous and we seemed to catch all the traffic lights in red. It’s true I was playing until ten minutes before the hour of leaving and I did spend maybe a little too much time fixing my hair, but hey, since when was a bit of vanity a sin?  
  
Mum had been acting weird; at the first stop she was pulling out her phone and dialling quickly, mumbling fast apologies and hanging up without giving him time to even say a word in reply. She was also looking stunning – dressed to impress - wearing one of her more expensive dresses and high heels, with a lot of make-up. If it wasn’t because we were going to see my uncle, I’d have thought she had a date.  
  
But that was impossible, right? Who on Earth would want to hook up with my mum?  
  
Finally, we arrived at the restaurant and I was surprised to see it was an expensive one; Uncle Richard had never been known for a gourmet palate or a taste for luxury, therefore, this had to be a mum’s idea. I presumed Uncle Richard was paying; we certainly weren’t healthy, that’s for sure, to the point where my grandparents (from my dad’s side) had had to help me buy my third-hand car, because even with my mum’s money and my savings, we still hadn’t had enough.  
  
We parked a bit far from the restaurant and I opened the door as soon as she stopped the car.  
  
“Dominic! Wait for me!” my mum protested, but I shook my head, smirking.  
  
“By the time you’ve finally made sure that you have everything in your purse and all the doors are locked, it will be dawn. I’ll go ahead,” I explained, closing the door with a slam and hurrying to the place, my feet already freezing. It was a chilly evening.  
  
I sighed with content when I finally entered into the warm space of the restaurant, looking around to find my uncle.  
  
The restaurant had a very modern style, with minimalistic furniture and a huge presence of the colour white was hard not to notice. It had to be a very fancy place, because almost all the tables were full, most of them with couples obviously on romantic dates.  
  
I couldn’t find Uncle Richard anywhere, so I decided to head for the bar, thinking he was probably having a beer at one of the stools, rather than waiting alone at our table.  
  
He wasn’t at the bar either though, but I made a more pleasant discovery when I saw a very handsome man sitting in one of the stools, a glass of red wine in his hand.  
  
He immediately caught my eye, because he was so different from the other men around. He was a brunet, with his short hair smartly styled, and had a neat chin beard and a lean body; he was also the shortest guy around. He was dressed in a black jacket, with a red button-down shirt underneath, black jeans, which hugged his _spectacular_ thighs perfectly and matching shiny, black shoes. He was drinking from his glass and I couldn’t help but admire his long fingers and the way his Adam’s apple moved when he swallowed.  
  
He was _gorgeous_.  
  
Before I had time to compose myself, he turned his head towards my side and caught me staring. That was the moment when I noticed he had amazingly bright blue eyes.  
  
And then something else caught his attention, because he looked behind me and smiled, waving a hand.  
  
Of course he was waiting for some bird, I should have expected it.  
  
“Matt!” I heard my mum behind me and when I turned, I found her smiling adoringly and waving.  
  
It couldn’t be!  
  
As if I was in a dream, I observed how Gorgeous Man stood up and came towards us, his gaze only focused on my mum.  
  
My mum!  
  
“Hello, Martha,” I heard him saying and, right in front of my eyes, he pecked her.  
  
 _He pecked my mum._  
  
My mum giggled like a schoolgirl and I could see her blushing, as she turned towards me and gave me an apologetic smile.  
  
“I’m sorry, Dominic. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I knew you wouldn’t have wanted to come if I had told you the truth. I want you to meet my boyfriend, Matthew Bellamy.”  
  
Oh, _fuck_.  
  
***


	2. Chapter 2

“So, we finally met, Dominic.” Smiling friendly, I held up my hand to the kid, who had his worried eyes locked on me, scanning, while nothing came from his fully opened mouth. He looked shocked. “Your mother told me a lot about you.” Noticing he was not going to shake my hand, I withdrew it, completely aware of his negative reaction.

I’d probably do the same if I found out that my mother was secretly dating someone at least 10 years younger than her.

“Dommy, dear.” I heard Martha whispering, catching the boy’s attention. “Matt is talking to you.”

“You…” It was the only thing her son could manage to say as he frowned, shaking his head and leading one hand to rub furiously on his brow. “This is not happening.” He hissed.

“Watch your manners, sonny! Now be gentle and greet Matt.”

“Fuck manners!” I arched both of my eyebrows at Dominic’s swearing as I watched him stepping away from us; going to somewhere I supposed was the bathroom.

“Dominic James Howard, come back here!” Martha shouted out over all the people in the restaurant, who immediately laid eyes on us, curious about what was happening.

A scene was not what I had planned for our date.

I rested one hand on Martha’s shoulder and she glanced, embarrassed, at me. “It’s okay, Martha. I understand him,” I stated with a reassuring smile.

“I am so, so sorry, Matt! I knew he would probably be pissed off, but I had no idea he would say such a thing! I’m feeling so bad right now…”

“Oi, I said it was okay, there’s no problem. Really.” She nodded reluctantly. “Come with me, let’s go to our table.”

We finally sat at the table I’d had booked, but Martha was still nervous, her fingers intertwining eagerly. I held her hands and brought them closer to my mouth, so I could place quick kisses on them. She let out a shy giggle and widened her eyes when she caught sight of Dom, the boy now walking towards us.

“Dominic!” She said.

“I just want to let you know that I’ll only stay because I’m hungry and you’re paying for the meal!” The boy pointed out, confident, as he sat at the opposite side of the table, in front of me, taking off his jacket and showing his short sleeves – exposing his toned arms, enough for someone of his age. The whole time he had this furious look towards me, interesting grey eyes inwardly blaming me for ‘stealing’ his mother.

I will just let it go.

***

It was a troubled dinner. Dominic was shooting me with angry looks the whole time, acting nonchalantly with any topic Martha or I brought up. I swear I tried my best to make the rebel boy feel more comfortable with the situation he was in. I even tried to talk directly to him, picking up a subject maybe he was interested in.

“You look a cool guy, Dominic. What kind of music do you like the most?” I asked, smiling and I felt Martha squeezing my hand in approval for my attempt.

“Let me think…” For the very first time that night, he smiled – actually, smirked – and leaned over the table, looking like he was about to say something interesting. “I like any song with lyrics like ‘don’t fuck my mum’.”

“For God’s sake, Dominic!” As I noticed Martha was going to stand up – and probably slap her son in front of all those people, something he definitely deserved – I prevented her from doing so, discreetly holding her shoulders.

“It’s alright, Martha.” I tried to calm her down, rubbing her arms, but then I heard Dominic chuckling, which made her immediately get up anyway.

“Excuse me,” she hissed, walking towards the bathroom.

Now it was only Dominic and me.

I avoided looking directly at him, but I could feel my skin burning from his glare, making me feel uncomfortable. I took my wine glass and sipped a bit more of the drink, hoping that Martha was okay.

“How old are you?” Dominic asked. I placed the glass back on the table and looked gravely at him, trying to keep my composure.

“Twenty-eight. You’re seventeen, aren’t you?” I remembered from all the times Martha had talked about her son, how much he loved videogames and football, she’d shown me tons of pictures of him; saying that he had gotten a new haircut but that she hadn’t had the chance yet to take a recent picture of him, since Dominic was constantly annoyed, locked in his room or at his best friend’s place.

To be honest, the Dominic sitting in front of me looked quite different from the skinny, weird boy from the pictures. I thought he was a guy with medium length hair, without any hint of muscles, hidden under loose clothes. But the teenager I see now is way more attractive than I’d imagined. That’s why I had a strange feeling when I saw him for the very first time that night, at the bar.

I’d have never imagined that the guy wearing a grey button-down shirt – unbuttoned enough to make everyone notice his hairless, tanned chest – under a navy blue jacket, black, tight jeans and Converse, with slightly mussed short, blond hair and soft features, was my girlfriend’s son.

There was something intriguing about him that made me curious… I just didn’t know what yet.

“We’re talking about you, ‘Matt’.” He emphasized my name, his face completely grave. “Between you and me, did your mum never teach you how weird it is to be a gerontophile?” I flinched at his harsh words. This boy is seriously troubled. I couldn’t expect more, considering the recent difficulties in his life. “My mum is almost forty-two, for fuck’s sake! Do you have a kink for wrinkles and saggy skin?”

I gulped and took a deep, deep breath. I was definitely not going to mistreat my girlfriend’s son, even though he was being extremely cheeky.

Looking into his eyes, all I could see was scorn, jealousy and something close to the desire for revenge. I’d like to have the chance to assure Dominic that I loved his mother and I only wanted to see her happy; I wasn’t planning on doing her any harm. I’d never do such a thing.

When I met Martha, at the bank where I work as a manager, she had looked hopeless; weary eyes, hard lines on her face. She has changed so much since we started to date five months ago. Now she’s a new woman; always beautifully dressed, well arranged, light brown hair and a sweet smile on her lips. Despite a few soft wrinkles in the corners of her eyes and laugh lines, Martha has this mature air all around her, which makes her glamorous and charming for someone of her age.

I didn’t get the chance to reply seriously to Dominic; Martha was back at the table before I had said anything. I didn’t mention Dominic’s bantering; I didn’t want to spoil the night even more, so I kept silent.

We resumed eating our meal, not saying a single word during the long time.

***

After finishing dinner, I followed Martha and her son outside the restaurant. I would have offered a lift to take them home, but since we planned the dinner, Martha had settled that she would drive by herself to avoid any further trouble with Dominic. I understood, maybe that was the best thing to do for now.

Dominic, visibly annoyed – and careless to hide it – walked ahead us, entering the car and sitting on the front seat beside the driver’s. I took the chance and grabbed Martha’s hand, pulling her closer to give her a kiss before she went. We hadn’t had the chance to kiss properly that night; we hadn’t wanted to make Dominic feel any more uncomfortable than he already was.

But a few seconds before we parted, her son shouted out from the car, “Stop fucking my mum’s mouth! That is disgusting!”

That was the last straw for Martha.

I almost saw fire in her eyes when she pulled away from me and strode towards the car with a determination and anger I’d never seen before. Dominic, who was staring at her from inside the car, didn’t even flinch or anything as his mother opened the car door furiously, before grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the vehicle. When I saw her lifting a hand to slap the guy, I hurried to grab her wrist.

“It is not worth it, Martha,” I said in a calm, yet firm, tone. “You’re not like this…”

All she could do at that moment was to breath heavily, infuriated. I swear I noticed a tear threatening to trickle down from the corner of one of her eyes. I quickly glanced at Dominic and found an inexpressive face staring at Martha. I was surprised by his nonchalance. Does he think everything he does is right? How could he not care about the feelings of his own mother?

Or maybe his jealousy was so strong that he would try anything to prevent me from getting any closer to his mother.

“I apologize for my son’s behaviour… Oh, Matt…” Martha pled, shaking her head. I held her shoulders and turned her to face me.

“How many times will I have to say it? It’s okay,” I smiled.

“This is not okay, Matt. I’m sorry… I’m so ashamed right now…”

“Are you ashamed of me, Mum?” We glanced at Dominic, who had returned to the car.

“I didn’t mean it, Dommy… Matt, I think I should go now, I’m so sorry.”

“Alright, dear. Talk to you later.” I hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “I love you,” I whispered and she gave me a sad smile. Poor woman… She was humiliated by her own son.

“Love you too.” Martha pecked me and entered the car.

***

“Hello, dear.” I picked up the call and Tom quirked an eyebrow. “It’s Martha,” I whispered, covering the phone with my hand. He smiled and wiggled on his seat, grabbing his coffee mug and sipped the beverage.

“Matt, I just wanted to apologize for last night,” she said from the other end of the line.

“I think I’ll need to take drastic measures if you keep apologizing,” I chuckled and noticed Tom taking his iPhone from the pocket of his grey jacket.

“Well, depending on which measures, maybe I’ll enjoy them.”

“Wow!” Okay, I don’t think a café is the appropriate place to start dirty talk. I cleared my throat and thought of an interesting programme for tonight. “Can we meet tonight?”

“Hopefully, yes!” Martha answered, cheerful.

“I’ll pick you at 8 p.m., okay?”

“Why don’t you just come over to my place?”

“Oh, but, hm… Don’t you think Dominic will be annoyed with my presence again? Maybe we need to give him more time to get used to me…”

“Don’t worry, dear. He’ll be at Chris’,” I heard her giggling. Hmm, I’m sure she’s planning something really… entertaining.

“Oh, if it’s okay with you, I’ll be there,” I whispered and Tom muffled a chuckle. When I hung up, I looked at him and found a smirk on his lips.

“Seems like someone will get lucky tonight,” he winked.

“Shut up,” I grinned and sipped a bit from my own coffee. Tom and I always come to this place during our break at the work. It was past nine in the morning and we’d picked a table close to the huge window, so we could see the active boulevard, full of vehicles and people.

A regular day in London.

“So, you were going to tell me about the other night,” Tom pointed out, looking really interested in the topic.

“Hmm, yeah…” I scratched the back of my neck, pondering the words. “It was… turbulent…?” I smiled, embarrassed.

“Why?”

“Martha’s son… He’s a bit, hmm, complicated to deal with.”

“Oh, I see. I must say I already expected something like that. You know, his parents have divorced and now his mother is dating a gorgeous 28 year-old bank manager. You know, you could be his successful big brother.” Teasing, Tom winked, a half-smile on his face.

“I told you to shut up, idiot.”

“But, seriously, you’ll need to make her son grow used to you; if you really want to be together with Martha.”

“I do! Really! It’s just a matter of time until Dominic stops with the jealousy.”

“Jealousy? Hmm, I’d like to study him for a while.” Tom scratched his beard chin, thoughtfully, staring into the void.

“Study? You won’t study my girlfriend’s son! What the hell, Tom?” I scoffed, looking both confusedly and curiously at him. There are times like this when Tom loses himself in his thoughts, pondering something about psychology, trying to understand the human mind. Sometimes I wonder if maybe he is the one who needs a psychologist.

“Chill, mate. I was just thinking it sounds like an Oedipus complex case. What makes this more interesting is the fact that the boy is already on the genital stage and--”

“Tom?! What the fuck are you babbling about?!” I asked, worried and widening my eyes. I’m sure that had something to do with psycho-something, but…

“What?” He stopped rambling, looking confused.

“I don’t know! You tell me! You started talking about some Oedipus guy and now you’re talking about Dominic’s… stuff!” I gesticulated eagerly, a habit of mine when I’m intrigued. Why the hell did he have to talk about Dominic’s genitals?! Certainly I didn’t need to think of that!

“Matt?!” Throwing his head back, Tom let out a loud guffaw, which drew people’s attention to our table. “I’m not talking about Dominic’s ‘stuff’!” He wiped his eyes. “Not at all. When we have more time I can explain what I was trying to say better, but you can just be aware that this boy is fond of his mother,” Tom smirked, getting up from his seat. “I need to go back to the clinic now.”

“I need to go back, too.” We followed to the exit and walked to our cars, parked near to the café. “By the way… When you say he’s fond of Martha… is it in a healthy way?” I asked, feeling a bit uncertain about that information.

“It depends. Sometimes it’s in a healthy way, sometimes it can develop into an incestuous relationship,” he shrugged, as if that was the most common thing in the world.

“What?!”

“Don’t worry, Matt!” Smiling, he placed a hand on my shoulder. “He’s just a jealous son. It’s normal, but it’ll take some time for things to get peaceful between you and him.”

“I just hope everything will be okay soon. You know… I really love Martha and I think that… maybe we…” I rubbed the nape of my neck and thought of the right words to say what was in the back of my mind.

“Maybe you can marry her in the future?”

“Maybe…?” I smiled shyly. Tom and I have been friends since we were both 12 and he knows everything about me, and the fact that I regard long-term relationships seriously is not a secret. But I’ve not always been that way. I remember how much I fooled around during my adolescence. But that was past.

“I’m happy for you, mate, because you are happy. This is good to see. But, please, be conscious. Don’t do anything stupid, you know what happened the last time…” he sighed, bringing back those terrible memories from not that long ago. Memories that I’d tried to censor myself of.

“Oh, no. Don’t worry. That won’t happen again. I won’t lay my eyes on another man again.”

“Matt, liking men is fine; what isn’t fine is cheating because of a cheap fuck with a guy.”

I frowned and recalled those shameful memories. It had happened with my last girlfriend, Rose. We’d been dating for almost three years and I was going to propose to her soon; we were even already living together. But… shit happened.

Rose was on a trip and I was alone for almost a whole month. I was hopeless without her, needing her by my side again. I missed her so much… And, during one of those lonely nights, I went out to a bar and had a few drinks. There was this guy, I think he was one or two years younger than me, and he was flirty and sympathetic. We talked for some time and I noticed we had so much in common. He bought me more booze and I accepted them.

I regret that night. We could have stopped there at the bar, but no. We called a taxi to get us home, but I was stupid, weak, and suggested we should go to my place because I had more beers there. We chatted and drank more, the atmosphere was cool and heating, I could feel my body blazing both because of the alcohol and because of the growing desire to have intimate contact with him.

Stupid. I was stupid. Couldn’t I live without sex for a month?! Am I some kind of wild animal, guided only by the most primal of the instincts?!

He was the one who took the first step, moving forward to kiss me. And I’d failed in my duty as loyal boyfriend, letting him explore my mouth not in a chaste way. We made out on the couch, we touched each other and in the end, we had sex. I passed out and the next thing I remember was Rose sobbing, shouting at us to leave her house – and yes, she and me were actually living in her house.

The guy, I don’t even remember the name, quickly put on his trousers, cursing at me while exiting the flat. I looked back at Rose and found her red faced, tears streaming from her eyes. I tried to apologize, saying that that would never ever happen again. It’s hard to believe in words like that when you catch your boyfriend cheating on you; with another man.

I don’t blame her for kicking me out of her house. I deserved that. It had been a long time since I had been with a guy. It was something pretty normal when I was 17 or 20 years old, but then I had developed some maturity and started to focus on serious relationships. Well, I thought I had developed in maturity. When I cheated on Rose, I stopped to think better about my actions and what I really wanted. I’d destroyed my relationship with her, and I’d loved her.

Tom knows how much I suffered and what lesson I learnt from that happening. I promised myself I’d never be with men again and I’ve been successful since then. I’m happy right now with Martha and I hope our feelings will only grow stronger. I feel comfortable with her and so does she with me. I actually can see myself with her in the future, like in a family. I don’t want to spoil our relationship and I care too much about her.

I love her, I’m sure.

I won’t let anyone be in our way; it’s not worth it.

“Matt?” Tom brought me back from my trance and I cleared my throat.

“So, I’ll talk to you later then,” I smiled, embarrassed.

“Alright. Have a nice day.” He gave me a friendly hug before entering in his car.

“Take care,” I waved, watching him leaving and walked towards my own vehicle.

***

As Martha and I had decided, I went to her place at 8 p.m. She was alone, wearing a provocatively low cut blouse and tight jeans. She was looking younger.

And sexy.

She greeted me with a smirk as she opened the door, placing a kiss to the corner of my mouth, wrapping her arms around my neck and resuming kissing me; now deep and wet. I smiled against her lips, letting a low chuckle escape.

“What?” She grinned, holding my hand and guiding me into her house.

“You’re so excited tonight,” I shook my head.

“Excited or exciting?” She winked and sat on the big couch in the living room.

“Both.” I sat alongside Martha and pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her earlobe. She wringed in my arms, giggling. “You’re beautiful tonight.” Still holding her, I took a deep breath in of her sweet scent and couldn’t help smiling. “So, what are we going to do?”

“As much as I want to just spend the whole night kissing you,” she pecked me, “I’m cooking dinner and I also rented a movie.”

“Hmm, dinner? Good.” I kissed her.

“C’mon, you’ll help me.” She got up and walked towards the kitchen. I followed her.

After helping her cook the dinner – and picking at some of the dishes – we ate our meal and enjoyed a long and comfortable talk for I don’t know how long. We went back to the living room, cuddling for a while. I kissed her softly, but things started to heat up and when they were turning into sloppy kisses, Martha pulled back, giggling.

“Easy, easy, tiger! We will have time for hot stuff soon. I rented a movie!”

“Is it one of those romantic ones which make you cry at the end?”

“Of course! What else?” Martha chuckled, getting up from the couch and stepping closer the TV in front of us. I saw her putting the DVD in the player, before taking the remote and sitting back down with me.

Even if I don’t like romantic movies I watched it with her. It couldn’t do any harm, could it? At least Martha was enjoying it and that made me happy. All I want to see is her beautiful smile, showing how glad she is. Such a vision was a reward.

We kissed once every while during the movie – those were my favourite parts – and as soon as the film was nearly over, I started to get worried about the time. Not that I wanted to go back home, but I didn’t want any further issues with Dominic. I’m sure he won’t be satisfied to see me in his house so soon.

What do I need to do to make him get used to me? Breaking up with Martha definitely was NOT in my plans, so, sooner or later, that boy would just have to understand that I’ve come to stay.

I glanced to my wristwatch. Half past midnight.

“Martha, I have to go, dear,” I whispered while stroking her hair. She had her head on my shoulder.

“Why, Matt?” She looked up at me, frowning.

“I don’t know when Dominic will be back, so I--”

“Don’t worry about him. He’ll sleep at Chris’.” Smiling, she cupped my face and showered sweet kisses on my cheeks and lips. “We have the whole house to ourselves.”

Martha slipped one of her hands to my neck, stroking it and leaning her forehead on mine. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the proximity and her warmth. Soon I felt her mouth pressed against my own. She leaned back on the couch, her hands pulling me down with her until my body was finally over hers.

We were already kissing passionately – Martha moaning into my mouth – when I heard the door being opened. Martha and I parted and got up from the couch when we realized Dominic was in the doorway.

But what I saw was not an infuriated teenager; he was hurt. There was blood dripping from his nose and from a cut on his lip, staining his white shirt – which was nearly ripped at the collar. That was when I noticed a few bruises on his neck and his hair was extremely messed.

“Oh my God! What happened, Dommeh?! My boy!” Martha quickly stood up and ran towards her injured son, hugging him, which made Dominic hiss. I followed her and noticed something else about him as that familiar smell of alcohol hung over him.

He was drunk.

I only could feel sorry for him. Dominic is rebel and reckless; he doesn’t care about what he does and obviously can’t understand how it can affect the people around him – especially his mother.

“Don’t…” he mumbled, while he tried to get free from Martha’s embrace. “I come home and find you two almost having sex.” Dominic let out a sarcastic chuckle, shaking his head and looking at me through his lazy eyelashes. “I couldn’t be happier.” He finally got free from his mother and shuffled towards the stairs; although his walk was unbalanced.

“Dominic! Let me take care of you, sonny!” Martha hurried to catch the boy, but he shoved away from her hands when she tried to hold his arm. Stepping away from her, he stumbled and fell to the floor, a loud thud echoing through the house as his limp body hit the carpet. “Oh my God!” She screamed and I ran to help the boy get up.

To deal with my girlfriend’s bleeding, drunk son had definitely not been in my plans. I hadn’t expected it.

Noticing that Dominic wasn’t able to stand on his feet, I had to use some of my strength to carry him in my arms. “It’s okay, Martha,” I tried to calm her down. “I’ll carry him to his room and then you can take care of his wounds, alright? He’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” she whispered, visibly worried about Dominic. Nodding, Martha then went to the bathroom to pick up supplies to treat the boy’s injuries.

“Get off of me, you cunt…” Dominic mumbled, wriggling a bit in my arms, but I could manage to keep holding him tightly, careful not to let him fall again. He is eleven years younger than me, but I think we have the same height – and because of that I had to struggle a bit to keep supporting his weight. “I hope you didn’t leave your spunk on the couch…”

And I took a deep breath, trying to ignore his teasing. I’d only known the guy for barely two days and I’m sure those were lines he could easily say even when sober. C’mon, Matt! Dominic is drunk; just ignore him.

When I was near his room, I suddenly felt some warmth on my chest and when I glanced down I found Dominic’s face buried there; hot breath leaving his mouth to heat my chest.

He was falling asleep – or maybe he was actually passing out.

I laid him on his bed, being as careful as possible not to knock his head on the headboard. He whimpered when he finally was laying, so I assumed that even his back was hurt.

Looking at him for a bit more, I realized his nose and lips were still bleeding. I took some tissues that were on the nightstand and carefully cleaned the blood from his face. Dominic hissed and flinched at first, leading his lazy hands to mine, trying to make me stop. “It’s alright,” I whispered and stroked his hair. “Let me help you.” He blinked a few times and finally let go of my hands, resting his own on his chest.

When I finished cleaning most of the blood, I crumpled the tissues and threw them into the bin. I came back and sat on the edge of the mattress, observing the boy. “What happened?”

Dominic stirred on the bed, closing his eyes and laying on his side, curling his body into the foetal position, as if he was seeking protection. His next words came in a very low tone and I almost couldn’t hear them, but they were pretty clear at the end. “I wanted to fuck the wrong guy…” He then sighed and kept silent.

I couldn’t see his face because he had buried it into the pillow, but I was aware of my own face.

Surprised was not the exact word to describe it. Shocked, maybe?

I wondered if he was just rambling confused things because he was drunk or if that was what he really meant. Is Dominic… gay? Does Martha know? I didn’t think so. For all that she had told me about her son, I would never have concluded he liked boys.

“Is he awake?” I heard Martha’s voice filling the room. I quickly glanced at her and noticed red eyes. She had probably cried.

“He’s falling asleep.” I stood up and stepped closer to her. She frowned and hugged me.

“Did he tell you what happened?”

I wondered if I should tell her what he’d said. If that was true, Dominic had probably ended up in a fight over some guy. Should I tell her? “No, he didn’t.” Martha already had too much to handle at that moment. I could tell her later.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Matt. I think you should leave now; I can take care of Dommeh. I’m so sorry… Every time we try to have some time together, shit happens!” She started crying again and I pulled her into a tight hug, kissing the top of her head.

“Oi, it’s going to be okay soon. You’ll see. I’ll leave now. Call me if you need any help with him,” I offered, wiping her tears away and she nodded.

“You’re so good to me. I’m so grateful for your kindness,” Martha whispered.

“There’s nothing to be thankful for. I’m just helping.” I pecked her face and walked towards the door.

“I love you,” she said while approaching from Dominic’s bed.

“I love you too.” I waved and left her house, hoping that everything was going to be alright with her son.

He doesn’t deserve any harm. After all, he is just a child.

***


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. While still reeling from his parents' divorce, Dominic's mother introduces him to her new boyfriend, which only serves to make things more complicated in the broken household, as Matthew instantly catches Dom's eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fiction and we don't want to offend anyone. We aren't making money out of this. We don't own Muse, just the plot and the original characters.
> 
> Here we are again! Did we already mention how busy we are in real life? Therefore, we can't give for granted anymore at a 100% level we'll be able to post monthly, but we'll try, of course ;)
> 
> We hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks for reading! :D

  
When I woke up my head was pounding mercilessly and my body was aching all over. I tried to roll onto my back and I growled when an unexpected sharp pain hit me, spreading all across my back. The growl made me aware of how much my bottom lip was hurting and I tentatively touched it with my index finger, noticing how swollen it was. When I took my finger away I noticed flecks of dried blood on my fingertips.  
  
Oh fuck, what happened last night?  
  
Slowly, memories started to creep their way into my mind. I was in a bar and I had spotted a gorgeous ginger close to me. He probably was younger than me and his sweet, almost childish, looks caught me. Usually I prefer guys who seem older, but at that time I didn’t care. I was already pretty drunk, wanting to forget all the shit my mum had thrown at me last night.  
  
I approached him and started to chat him up, showing my most seductive smile and in no time my hand was on his thigh, caressing his leg with obvious intent. The guy (whose name I don’t remember) was blushing adorably and I smirked, knowing I had him.  
  
I didn’t know he wasn’t alone. Suddenly I felt someone grab me by the shirt and spin me around, yelling shit like ‘don’t touch my boyfriend’ and ‘you fucking little bastard’. I tried to defend myself but the man was so much bigger than me and I couldn’t avoid the fist that flew into my face.  
  
After what felt like hours some people got him off of me and I was thrown out of the bar, the manager realising I was a minor and dumping me as unceremoniously as possible, mumbling a meaningless apology and warning me with a stern glare not to come around anymore.  
  
“Fuck,” I muttered, cringing at my hoarse voice and sitting up slowly, trying not to move more muscles than necessary.  
  
When I glanced at my night stand, I saw a glass of water and aspirins and I sighed with relief. That was just what I needed.  
  
It wasn’t until I finished the glass and closed my eyes, leaning my head against the headboard, that the realisation of what it meant sank in.  
  
Oh God no. Mum knew.  
  
“Shit!”  
  
Another piece of the night returned. I saw the awful image of her and that Matthew guy making out on the couch – on our couch, for fuck’ sake! I could also then remember clearly the look of sheer worry in my mum’s eyes and I felt my stomach turn. Then I revived the shocked face of Matthew: his blue gaze analysing me and knowing what had happened, commiseration darkening his features.  
  
I barely knew him and I already wanted to murder him.  
  
There wasn’t any chance to escape her and I already knew it. However, I tried to sleep a little bit more until my bladder reminded me it had to let out all that I’d drank last night.  
  
With a sigh I stood up, quickly discarding my clothes (that stank of sweat) and putting on the first t-shirt I saw in my drawer, along with a hoodie and tracksuit pants. I examined my face in the mirror and cringed when I noticed the bruise on my right eye and how my bottom lip looked.  
  
“Fuck,” I repeated, cursing my bad luck. Not only hadn’t I got laid last night, but now I was aching all over, my face was ruined, Mum was going to be furious with me and, to top all of that, she had a stupid boyfriend now.  
  
I grunted, opening my door and stepping into the unknown. Maybe I was lucky and she wasn’t home…  
  
“Dominic!” I heard her screaming from downstairs, her voice clearly angry.  
  
I rubbed my eyes tiredly, not moving or answering.  
  
“I know you’re awake, Dominic. Get down here and behave for once like the adult you like to pretend you are!”  
  
I sighed and shouted: “I was going to have a pee, mum!” My voice sounded harsh to my own ears and my throat was plain dry.  
  
“Five minutes!” she warned me and I mumbled an “alright” she wasn’t going to hear, finally arriving at my destination.  
  
While I was peeing I considered my options: there wasn’t any point in hiding in my room, because, even if I locked the door, she would try to get in and would be even angrier if she found it locked. I couldn’t delay the moment, but still I didn’t want to go downstairs and face her; I wasn’t accustomed any more to see the focus of an argument being myself and didn’t know how to handle it. Life was easier when my parents were too busy shouting at each other to notice me. Now, all the attention that I craved so much before was turning displeasing, especially when it meant that my freedom was surely going to be shortened.  
  
She was waiting for me in the kitchen and I silently thanked that she was giving me an opportunity to at least face the storm behind a cup of something warm to drink.  
  
I kept my head up, even if I didn’t look at her eyes, opening the fridge to pull out the carton of milk.  
  
“Dominic James, look at me right now.” I breathed in and faced her, grabbing a mug out of the sink.  
  
“Morning, Mum,” I dared to cheekily greet her, wiggling my eyebrows. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, admirably trying not to burst just yet.  
  
“Dominic, haven’t you got anything to say about the condition you arrived home in last night?” Her voice was firm and I almost could feel the irritation radiating off her skin. I went for playing innocent, calmly pouring the milk into my mug.  
  
“I know, I should have worn my coat instead of just my leather jacket, I was freezing when I finally got here…” I turned to put the mug in the microwave and on cue she started yelling at me.  
  
“HOW CAN YOU BE THIS BLOODY RECKLESS, DOMINIC?! LOOK AT ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU!” She had her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes could have killed a whole army, but I had the balls to stay cool.  
  
“Mum…”  
  
“Don’t ‘Mum’ me! YOU WERE DRUNK AS A SKUNK AND SOMEONE HAD BEATEN THE LIFE OUT OF YOU! DO YOU REALLY THINK ALL OF THIS IS NORMAL?!” Her face was all flushed and her voice had acquired that high pitched sound I had grown used to in the past years.  
  
The microwave rang and I turned again to open it, while she continued to shout at me.  
  
“… YOU’RE ONLY 17, FOR GOD’S SAKE! THAT IS ILLEGAL! OH MY GOD, I EXPECT YOU WEREN’T DUMB ENOUGH TO DRIVE DRUNK, OR WERE YOU?! WHERE HAS EVERYTHING I’VE TAUGHT YOU GONE TO?!”  
  
I sighed with content, finally sipping the warm liquid. I’d have preferred a mug of coffee, but I wasn’t to risk it more.  
  
“AND MY POOR MATTHEW HAD TO WITNESS ALL OF THIS! YOU EMBARRASSED ME!”  
  
I snapped at the mention of the bloke’s name. Was it that, then?  
  
“What?! You have to be kidding! Are you blaming me, because with my drunken show I didn’t let him fuck you on our couch?!” I shouted, finally losing my temper. She was more worried about the image I had given to that bloody Matthew, than of me having arrived drunk and bruised!  
  
Her eyes shoot open at my harsh words and she actually blushed, her face more flushed than what it already had been.  
  
“You… you… disrespectful, bad mouthed, spoilt… HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THIS?”  
  
“I DARE BECAUSE I CAN’T LET YOU BE SHAGGING SOME GUY WHO COULD BE YOUR SON!”  
  
I didn’t see it coming. Her hand impacted against my cheek with so much force that my eyes felt like they wanted to tear. I looked at her shocked, forgetting about my mug and our current situation. It had been the first time she had hit me since I was a child. And that was only because I had got in a tantrum for hours.  
  
She then started crying, mumbling incoherently.  
  
I left the kitchen instantly, grabbed my car keys and ran out of the house for the first time in months.  
  
***  
  
“Dom, you have to admit you were rather harsh with her…”  
  
“How the fuck can you say that? That Matthew guy must be almost twenty years younger than her! And he’s fucking her! He’s fucking _my mum_! DISGUSTING!” I kicked the ball so hard that it flew over the bench in Chris’ back garden. He shot me an annoyed look but I just shrugged it off; I was too angry with the world to be bothered about the fact that I was seriously annoying my best friend - and only support - right now.  
  
“Your mother is still young and it’s normal that she’s trying to have a romantic life again…”  
  
“ _I_ could be shagging that bloke, for God’ sake! Chris, he’s twenty eight!” I shouted a bit louder, because he had left to retrieve the ball. I swore I could hear him snort. “Oi! It’s true!”  
  
“Give your hormones a break, mate! Just because you didn’t have your share of arse last night, doesn’t allow you…” He had returned and was practising his shooting with a homemade goal composed of two wooden stacks.  
  
“Look who’s talking; the one who hasn’t got laid by Kelly, even though he’s been drooling over her for two years!”  
  
The ball was shot in my direction before I could see it and hit me in my stomach, making me curl with a pained grunt and fall to the muddy grass. I could barely breathe and my back ached even more, but I knew Chris didn’t care at that moment that he’d added even more pain to my already bruised body.  
  
I heard his footsteps coming towards me and I reflexively curled myself into foetal position, having an awful flashback of the night before, when I was in a similar predicament.  
  
“You’re really a cunt, Dom. You better get out of my house in two minutes or I’m going to wreck you a bit more.”  
  
He left the garden, probably because he knew I was going to follow his orders and because, otherwise, he would have beaten the hell out of me and our friendship could have been ruined, if not forever, at least for a couple of weeks.  
  
I lifted myself off the ground carefully, still gaining my breath. I grimaced at the sight of grass stains on my trousers, but I let that pass. Without a word or further warning, I left Chris’ house, determined to wander around for a bit before returning to my house.  
  
***  
  
The consequences of my night-time adventure and following escapade from my house were less severe than expected, but more serious than what I was accustomed to, because I wasn’t really used to any kind of punishment from my parents.  
  
I had to be confined to my house for three weeks. I could only leave to go to school and football practices. Chris could come to visit me just once in the week, and for a short period of time. PlayStation and other kind of video games were forbidden and hidden from my grasp, and my mum warned me that if she caught me going on the laptop or generally being lazy when I was supposed to study or do my homework, the punishment would be longer.  
  
Hell on Earth, they said.  
  
However, the worst of my confinement was yet to come.  
  
The next Monday after everything that happened, I arrived home from football. All my limbs were aching because the physical exercise had brought back to my body the pains from Friday, and my intention was to collapse on my bed as soon as possible: I didn’t care if my mum complained, I was mentally unable to do any studying at the moment.  
  
I had dropped my keys on the table beside the hall and started taking off my coat, when I heard giggles from the kitchen. I sighed tiredly, because I really couldn’t bear the thought of confronting any of my mum’s stupid friends tonight. Maybe if I told her I needed to study…  
  
“Dominic? Are you home?”  
  
Shit, there wasn’t any way out, then.  
  
“Yes,” I grunted, heading for the kitchen to say hello to her and to whoever was with her inside. “Oh fuck no!”  
  
It was that Matthew guy again!  
  
He was leaned against the counter, holding a steaming cup of what I thought was tea in his long hands. He was wearing simple jeans, Converse and an Abercrombie hoodie, and he was looking at me with a careful poker face, clearly testing my mood before saying anything.  
  
How could I hate someone I barely knew as much as I hated him? I looked at his youthful clothes, that almost matched the ones I was wearing, and I snarled.  
  
“Hi, Dominic, Matt is going to stay with us tonight,” my mum cheerfully announced, as if it was the most brilliant news in the whole world. I looked at her and noticed she was in the middle of cooking what smelled like her special chicken with a delicious sauce I never knew how she made.  
  
Of course she was going to cook something out of the ordinary, because she had to impress the bastard.  
  
“Hello, Dominic. How are you doing?” he greeted me in a cautious tone, obviously remembering that the last time we met I was drunk and bleeding. Oh, he was going to play the paternal figure, wasn’t he?  
  
“I was actually over the moon, because I topped my record of penalties in one minute…”  
  
“That’s fantastic, Dom! I’m glad to hear that!” Mum said, shooting me a proud smile, Matt nodded, looking at her with a disgustingly adoring face.  
  
“Well done, mate!” he said, his attention back to me and his thin lips forming a tense smile, still wary of my actions.  
  
I rolled my eyes and tightened my fists at his way of trying to be friendly.  
  
“… but then I had to come home to find you in my kitchen, which sort of ruined the mood.” I completed my sentence grinning cheekily.  
  
Mum’s reaction arrived instantly, the wooden spoon falling out of her hand and into the pot, splashing tomato sauce all over her apron. Matt was at once by her side, caressing her shoulders and whispering honey nonsense into her ear, probably trying to calm her down.  
  
They repulsed me, so I hurried to leave before the screaming began.  
  
***  
  
The dinner looked like a copy from the first one I had had with Matthew. I barely talked and my mum was constantly shooting icy glares at me, as if daring me to make any ‘rude’ comments. He decided to ignore me, talking to her about his work (he worked as a bank manager, apparently) and so-called funny anecdotes. I admit that, in any other context, he and I could have gotten along, but not while he was banging my mother.  
  
I was eating an apple as dessert, when my mum thought it was a nice moment to drop a bombshell on me.  
  
“So, Dominic…” I looked up at her and noticed she had her attention divided between Matthew and me, as he leaned forward so that his hand could stroke hers, reassuringly.  
  
I didn’t like the look of that.  
  
“Yeah?” I prompted, fearing for the worst. If she said they were going to get married or having a baby, I’d kill him with my own hands, I swore to myself.  
  
“Matt and I have decided…” She scratched her nose, her nervousness plainly obvious.  
  
“Martha and I don’t get much time to see each other, as she has to revise exams and exercises on afternoons, and pretty often I have to stay at the bank taking care of things…” Matt stepped in and I had an awful feeling of _déjà vu_ : I had been in this situation, but with my dad and her, much before.  
  
I snorted, sarcastically commenting: “What a pity, you can’t get into her knickers as often as you wish…”  
  
“Dominic, for God’ sake!” my mum scolded me, starting to get angry.  
  
“Martha, it’s fine,” I heard him whispering at her, his thumb tracing circles on my mum’s hand. I felt my blood boiling.  
  
“For your information, Dominic, what Matt and I are trying to say is that, in order to get more time together, he’s going to stay over a couple of days each week. So, if you don’t want to be sent to Ireland to stay with your father, you better keep your mouth shut and be nice to him or you’ll leave London. I’m warning you!”  
  
For a moment I was afraid my jaw would dislocate, that was how far my mouth opened in shock when I heard her saying those words. Did I really have to stand the presence of bloody Matthew in my own house?  
  
“No way! I don’t want that!” I protested, throwing my forgotten apple at the table.  
  
“There isn’t anything you can do about it, Dominic. It’s _my_ house, after all.”  
  
“But I live here! And I don’t want to know that you two are shagging under the same roof as me!” My mum blushed violently at my words and her eyes opened in horror. I braced myself for the furious outcome that was going to come, but it never arrived. Instead, she stood up from the table with shaking hands and left the room, heading for the stairs.  
  
She probably didn’t want ‘her Matthew’ to see her involved in another fight with me.  
  
“Why do you always have to be so difficult?”  
  
I turned my head and looked at Matthew, who was frowning at me. His eyes showed repulsion towards my attitude but I didn’t care. I didn’t like him at all, either.  
  
I shrugged and took a sip of my glass of water.  
  
“Look, I can understand you don’t like the idea of your mother dating someone younger than her, but I really love her and I don’t want to hurt her.” I snorted. “What?” he squinted, clearly annoyed by my manners. I smirked at him.  
  
“Your relationship can’t work! She’s forty-two and has lived through a very difficult marriage and divorce. She’s raised a child and works hard to arrive at the end of the month. What about you? You haven’t got all of that on your shoulders!” I accused him, very angry now. I really cared about my mum and I didn’t want her to get hurt, but what annoyed me most about this whole situation was that things were changing again in my life, when it had finally just settled. And nobody messes with Dominic Howard’s life.  
  
I almost saw how his eyes lit with fire at my little speech.  
  
“You think you know all about life, but you don’t! You can’t understand how love and relationships work! And you don’t know _anything_ about my life, so shut the fuck up!” he shouted furiously, his eyes shining with rage.  
  
He stood up as well then, clearly heading for my mum’s bedroom to comfort her. How disgusting is that?  
  
“Mum isn’t going to like you swearing in front of me, Matthew,” I mocked him, pouting with my best innocent face.  
  
He stopped in his tracks and turned around, clearly biting his tongue in order not to make a bad mouthed retort. His fists were closed tightly and I smiled victoriously.  
  
Maybe it was going to be fun having him around.  
  
“I’m going to make your life impossible while you’re living here, wanker,” I warned him in a sing-song voice, finally standing as well, planning to watch some telly before going to sleep.  
  
He then took me completely by surprise, because I didn’t think he could move that fast. Suddenly, he had me pressed up against the nearest wall, with his hands viciously gripping the collar of my shirt. His face was mere inches from mine and I could see the fury in his eyes.  
  
“Get off me,” I hissed, accentuating each word.  
  
After one more second, he let me go. He seemed shocked by his own actions; he was looking at his hands as if he couldn’t believe he had treated me violently.  
  
“Sorry,” Matthew mumbled and hurried to disappear from the room.  
  
I rearranged my shirt, wincing at the pain in my back. The bastard, who looked like the tiniest breeze could lift him off the ground, had more force in him than I’d thought!  
  
He was going to regret how he had treated me.  
  
***  
  
Next morning, I woke up earlier than usual, but I had my reasons: I was going to make Matthew pay for what he had done last night.  
  
I showered and dressed quickly, intending to be the first to arrive in the kitchen and managed by just a few minutes: I could hear my mum and him talking upstairs, heading downstairs to prepare breakfast.  
  
I worked quickly, without doubts I picked up the salt bag and got rid of all the sugar left in the sugar bowl, throwing it into the bin and thanking silently that my mum was one of those strange people who didn’t like to put sugar in her coffee. I couldn’t stand the beverage without it, but I also liked tea with milk so it wouldn’t be unusual if, that morning, I didn’t drink coffee. Matt was going to be the only person who would use the bowl… and he would find a bunch of salt inside it!  
  
I had just closed the lid of the sugar bowl when the happy couple entered the kitchen.  
  
“Dominic?” my mum asked in surprise, because it wasn’t normal for me to be in the kitchen before her; I suppose I’m not a breakfast person, so instead of spending almost twenty minutes eating, I’d drink my coffee or tea quickly and grab a croissant or toast to eat in the last minute, before leaving the house in a hurry because I was late for school.  
  
The game was on!  
  
“Morning, Mum!” I greeted her happily, practising my best innocent and pure smile. I even nodded towards Matthew’s direction. He was looking at me suspiciously. “I decided to try to set up breakfast, because I want to apologise for my attitude yesterday, I don’t like that you two are together but,” I let out a deep sight of resignation, “I’ll try to get used to it,” I finished, looking at her with puppy eyes and scratching the nape of my neck, doing my best to appear as embarrassed as possible.  
  
Mum, even if she was clearly surprised by my polite attitude, was more receptive to believe my mask of ‘good son’. I could even see her eyes clouding a bit.  
  
“Oh, Dominic. You… you didn’t have to…”  
  
“But I wanted to!” I protested, setting my poisoned sugar bowl on the table, along with paper napkins and three dishes.  
  
“Dommeh!” She squeezed me in her arms tightly, dropping kisses on my forehead. I didn’t like to be treated like a kid, but I had to keep performing my ‘good son’ act, so I let her have her way with me. “You can be the best son when you want…” she whispered against my hair and finally let me go.  
  
I smiled timidly, slightly embarrassed by such a display of maternal affection in front of Matt. It wasn’t as if I cared about what he thought of me, but a guy can have a bit of vanity, can’t he? It was almost pure instinct, not wanting to look like a kid in front of a man.  
  
Matthew was eyeing me and wasn’t buying any of what I was saying, but I also could see a shade of doubt on his face; he didn’t know me well enough and he was obviously divided between applying the _in dubio pro reo_ or not trusting my new modals.  
  
“Let me, I’ll prepare coffee. Do you want any, Dominic?” Mum started setting everything and I took some bread out of the cupboard to make toast; I smirked when I saw how lost Matthew seemed, standing in the middle of the kitchen without anything to do.  
  
“No, thanks. I’m going to have tea,” I announced, and Matt took that as his cue in order not to seem useless.  
  
“I’ll do that,” he said, grabbing the teapot and starting to fill it with water from the sink, humming distractedly.  
  
For a moment, it occurred to me that we looked like a family. I remembered all those times, when I was a child, in which I helped Mum and Dad make breakfast, even if I could barely reach the counter.  
  
I felt a pang of pain in my chest. My family now was separated and there was, in my own home, a man who theoretically was supposed to replace my dad’s position. It repelled me and drove my want for revenge even more.  
  
I was going to break the couple up.  
  
Breakfast done, we sat down around the table. It was weirder than usual, because the table was small and clearly not made for three people, so my feet were touching Matthew’s. I saw him flinching in his seat, trying to put more space between our limbs, but he didn’t succeed.  
  
For one strange instant, I felt a need to caress his ankle with my sock covered foot, wanting to see how shocked he would react. I was sure he was the kind of man who, even if on the outside he was all gay friendly, in the inside would be all against any kind of man on man contact.  
  
However, I didn’t have time to linger on those thoughts, because he had already used the sugar bowl and was stirring his cup, ready to sip his _delicious_ coffee…  
  
“Oh shit!” he shouted with a grimace of repugnance, spitting all the coffee around him, staining what had been a spotless, white shirt and even splashed my mum’s face in the process.  
  
I immediately took a napkin to hide my laughter from them, trying to maintain my composure.  
  
“Oh, Matty! What happened? Oh my God, is my coffee really that bad?” my mum started asking, worried, grabbing a handful of paper napkins and trying to clean the stains of brown in his shirt. He shook his head unconvincingly, doing his best to smile reassuringly at her, but his grimace of almost nausea didn’t disappear completely off his face.  
  
“No, no, it’s good, it’s just…” he tried to explain, but mum was in one of her states of deep worry and she wasn’t listening.  
  
“I’m so sorry! It’s been a while since the last time I made real coffee, not just instant! Let me help you with that!”  
  
In the blink of an eye, Matthew was suddenly shirtless in the middle of the kitchen, my mum having forced him to give her the shirt to clean the stains immediately, before the two of them had to go to work. Matthew couldn’t say a word, my mum shushing his protests with apologies and a few pecks, until she got her prize and left the room in search of the stain-remover.  
  
As soon as she was gone, I couldn’t help myself anymore and burst out laughing aloud. With that, Matt understood and looked at me with anger.  
  
“It was you! Of course it was you! It had to be fucking you!” he hissed, eyeing the sugar bowl suspiciously, finally picking it up and opening the lid, before sniffing it. “Salt! You put salt in here instead of sugar! You bloody…!”  
  
“Tut, tut!” I said, quickly grabbing the sugar bowl off his hands and heading for the bin before he could do anything, effectively cleaning up the proof of my crime. He was still staring at me, almost gaping with indignation.  
  
“No!” he tried to protest, very late, because I was already re-filling the bowl with the true sugar. Nevertheless, he grabbed my arm and backed me against the refrigerator.  
  
He had a thing for corralling young men, didn’t he?  
  
“I’ll tell her!” he threatened, his blue eyes reduced to two thin slits, as furious as he was.  
  
I tried to keep my cool, even if it was difficult. My eyes were so tempted to stare at his bare shoulders, angular collar bones protruding beneath an immaculate, pale skin that I’d gladly mark with my teeth.  
  
What the fuck was I thinking?  
  
“Oh, really? And what if I tell her you have a thing for threatening her son against walls and refrigerators? And that doesn’t even include the fact that you’re half naked here…” I pointed out, my index finger moving at its own accord and grazing the middle of his chest lightly, where I could see a tiny bit of dark hair.  
  
He actually blushed, his eyes showing something akin to fright and looked at me as if it was the first time he saw me. He backed away slowly, shaking his head and crossing his arms, trying to hide his nudity.  
  
I swallowed when I spotted his dark happy trail.  
  
I don’t know if Matt noticed my stare, but he clicked his tongue and left the kitchen, leaving me alone with my confused thoughts.  
  
I rubbed my face with one hand, trying to calm down. It was normal, wasn’t it? He was… okay, he was handsome and he was topless and he’d had me against the wall and I haven’t gotten a lay in centuries so…  
  
“I need to fuck someone,” I muttered to myself, already making a plan to go against my mum’s punishment.  
  
At least I had something to look forward to and distract myself from the perspective of having to share my home with a man I hated.  
  
***


End file.
